


Back for the Fight

by ladysugarquill



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-07
Updated: 2010-04-07
Packaged: 2019-01-19 22:45:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12419838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladysugarquill/pseuds/ladysugarquill
Summary: Neville's had a horrible year, but now Harry's back for the fight. Neville's POV on the return of Harry for the Battle of Hogwarts of Deathly Hallows.





	Back for the Fight

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

 

 

**Characters/Pairings:** Neville, Harry/ Ginny, Ron/Hermione  
**Author's Notes:** This was written for vegablack62 for the Write Your Own Fic Fest on livejournal. The title was stolen from the wonderful Wizard Rock album by _Oliver Boyd and the Remembralls_ , everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling. Some dialogue is taken from Deathly Hallows, chapters 28 and 29. Ariana's mistakes are intentional.  
  


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**Back for the Fight**

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"Neville? Abe wants to see you." A voice that was barely a whisper drifted through the chatter of the several teens in the wood-panelled room, reaching the ears of one Neville Longbottom, who sat in an armchair dabbing something green and foul smelling in his hurt ankle.

"Really? Why?" he asked, glancing at the girl on the portrait, while the strange ointment started to fume.

"Hmm, he didn't tell me. Perhaps he wants help with the kids. He was talking to some kids who wants to come to the castle." She let out a faint giggle. "He don't like kids."

By now other people had started to pay attention to the exchange as well. After all, it wasn't common for Abe to send for them.

Ariana nodded to herself. "Two boys, a girl, I'd never seen them before." 

Neville turned sharply towards the portrait, suddenly alert. 

"And did you see them?" he said, and saw Ernie roll his eyes; she obviously had. "How do they look like?" he clarified.

"One of the boys have red hair. I remember because Abe used to have red hair. And the other boy has glasses, glasses bigger than Abe's." 

Neville stared at the portrait in disbelief for a second. He barely noticed the room had gone completely silent. 

"Are you sure?" 

She nodded, painted eyes wide. Neville got to his feet at once, and turned towards Parvati (Seamus was in no condition to go anywhere).

"Gather everyone here." He lifted his D.A. Galleon. "I'll send word to the rest."

"Is this it, Neville?"

He grinned. "I hope so."

As he clambered to the hole behind Ariana's portrait, he reminded himself the painted girl, while lovely and all, wasn't exactly all there, he tried not to be too excited... and failed. He was practically bouncing on his feet (or on his foot – the other one wasn't really helping) as he walked down the tunnel to the Hog's Head. 

Pointing his wand at his D.A. Galleon, he changed the message: _Harry's back. Apparate to H.Head._

And then he added: _We're fighting._

An odd sort of feeling stirred in his stomach as he reached the end of the passage. He was nervous. Where they really there? Could this be it, the end? It had to... 

The other portrait swung forward, and he was greeted by the familiar sight of Aberforth's sitting room... and its occupants. Any doubt he might had vanished then, and out of his throat came an indistinct sound of joy (it might've had a "Yeah!" in it somewhere). There, a bit taller and a lot thinner than the last time he'd seen him, looking very pale in the dim light of the room but perfectly alive, was Harry Potter. 

"I knew you'd come! _I knew it, Harry!_ " 

Neville jumped from the mantelpiece (sprained ankle be damned) and ran towards him, enveloping him in a bone crushing hug. He might have lifted him off the ground a little, even, since some part of him _did_ marvel at how little he weighted for his height.

"Neville – what the – how – ?" he heard Harry splutter from somewhere over his shoulder.

He released him only to go after Ron and Hermione, who were sitting by the (firmly closed) window, eyes wide with surprise.

Ron made some sort of noise that might've been: "Neville, air!" (or maybe "gerrof!"). But it didn't matter, because he was already lifting Hermione from her chair and wrapping his arms around her too. Her hair stuck to his face; for some reason it was sopping wet.

He let her go, and wasn't upset when she looked as if she'd been freed from a friendly Devil's Snare. 

"I knew you'd come! Kept telling Seamus it was a matter of time!"

"Neville, what's happened to you?" Harry and Ron were looking at his many injuries with worry, and Hermione more so. 

"What? This? This is nothing. Seamus is worse. You'll see." He was babbling, he knew it, but couldn't bring himself to care, he was just too happy. "Shall we get going, then? Oh!" He'd forgotten to warn Aberforth! He'd never hear the end of it if people started Apparating on his bar without him knowing. "Abe, there might be a couple more people on the way." 

He explained the plan and, as always, Abe fussed and grumbled, but Neville knew the old innkeeper well enough already not to take his grouching seriously. He was always cranky, Abe, but always helped them. Neville knew he wasn't nearly as disenchanted as he himself wanted to believe.

Now, at last, it was time to go. He held out a hand that Hermione took, and helped her climb into the tunnel (the contents of her purple handbag clanking suspiciously). He stepped aside to let Ron follow her, and then clambered up himself. After thanking Abe with that seriousness that was so common in him, Harry got into the passage as well. 

They started walking up the smooth stone steps, illuminated by the old brass lamps attached to the walls. Ron was apparently astounded by the tunnel which, according to him, wasn't on Harry's Map. Neville thought it looked too old to have appeared with their hiding place, but you never knew at Hogwarts. It was a possibility, specially the other secret passages couldn't be used anymore. 

"There's no chance of getting through any of them now, not with curses over the entrances and Death Eaters and Dementors waiting at the exits," Neville told them.

He turned around as he walked (his feet knew the path even backwards), taking a good look at them in the alternatively light and darkness cast by the lamps. 

They were all very thin, specially Ron (who'd always been lanky, but now looked almost gaunt). They had deep shadows under their eyes, and he could also see freshly-looking injuries, half healed, that looked like burns (had the dragon attacked them?). They all had wet hair as well. 

Hermione had some worry lines around her eyes and brow, visible even in the dim light, that weren't there before. Her bushy, soggy hair was singed in places and Neville thought he saw a red cut across her neck. She was also for some reason carrying a little, purple, beaded handbag. Neville noticed then they didn't seem to have any rucksacks.

Ron was walking slightly behind the other two, and Neville noticed he was keeping an eye on them as well as appreciating the passage. He looked... attentive, and that was something he didn't remember Ron being. 

But it was Harry who caught Neville's attention. Somehow, he'd gotten to the front of them, despite having entered the tunnel last. And he looked... older, was the word that came to his mind. Which was silly, they probably all looked older after everything that'd happened. But... There'd always been a certain _thing_ about Harry, a certain strength – and maybe it was the way he carried himself (straight shoulders, controlled movements), or the green eyes sharp under the glasses, but it was even more notorious now. He had the look of a man who knows what he's doing, who knows why he's doing it. 

He brushed aside Death Eaters and Dementors with a wave of is hand.

"Never mind that stuff... is it true? Did you break into Gringotts? Did you escape on a dragon?" They looked kinda surprised at his knowledge. "It's everywhere," he explained, "everyone's talking about it, Terry Boot got beaten up by Carrow for yelling about it in the Great Hall at dinner!" Well, maybe that last part shouldn't have sounded so happy. 

Harry kept his serious face as he said "Yeah, it's true." Neville burst into laughter. 

"What did you do with the dragon?"

"Released it into the wild. Hermione was all for keeping it as a pet –"

Hermione rolled her eyes in _that_ way she only ever used with Ron. "Don't exaggerate, Ron –"

Hearing them bicker good-naturedly, Neville felt as if he'd swallowed a bottle of butterbeer, a warmth that spread from his throat to his stomach, and it was a if they were back in the Gryffindor Common Room, before everything went to the dogs. He could almost see Crookshanks chomping a big spider in front of Ron. They looked slightly different, but – despite the death, despite the fighting – they were still _them_ , and that was wonderful. 

"But what have you been doing? People have been saying you've just been on the run, Harry, but I don't think so. I think you've been up to something."

Things might've been bad, but he'd still been in the relative safe haven of Hogwarts – except for the few snippets they'd caught on Potterwatch, he ( _they_ ) didn't really know how it was out there, in the middle of the war. Neville could now admit he'd been afraid the war'd taken its toll on his friends. If it were for him, he'd been out there fighting too, he was of age after all, but back then they didn't know just how bad (and how _fast_ ) things were going to decay, they thought they had at least one more year...

"You're right, but tell us about Hogwarts, Neville, we haven't heard anything."

Harry had obviously avoided the question, but their concerned expressions told Neville they really needed to know. He sighed softly.

"It's been..." he started, but he didn't really know how to explain it... "well, it's not really like Hogwarts anymore," he finished, and winced at how lame it sounded. "Do you know about the Carrows?"

"Those two Death Eaters who teach here?"

Neville snorted. "They do more than teach."

Neville told them all about the Death-Eating siblings. He spoke with contempt of the new Dark Arts curricula and Amycus "teaching" methods (" _What?_ " the Trio exclaimed, their voices echoing on the earthy corridor). He could almost see Goyle Crucioing a second-year, and all the other idiots' delighted faces. The deep cut on his cheek prickled, as if to remind him of it. He also told them about the heap of dung Muggle Studies had become, and Alecto's indoctrinating lies.

He saw Harry's hand clench around his wand. Hermione covered her mouth with her hand, horrified.

"I got this one," he pointed at the wound across the bridge of his nose (the one Hannah said was 'cute'), "for asking her how much Muggle blood she and her brother have got."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Blimey, Neville, there's a time and a place for getting a smart mouth." 

"You didn't hear her," Neville retorted, eyeing Ron. "You wouldn't have stood it either."

Ronald Weasley, telling someone to think before they act? (Well, a part of his brain said, spending that much time with Hermione was bound to have consequences – it was expected that something would rub off).

"The thing is, it helps when people stand up to them, it gives everyone hope. I used to notice that when you did it, Harry." He cast a glance at him, and thought he saw a little smile. Of course, Neville didn't think Harry'd noticed back then. He'd just been his usual mildly impulsive self. 

Yet newly-sensible Ron wasn't over. "But they've used you as a knife sharpener," he said, wincing probably at his injuries.

That was also new; it was something he'd expect from Hermione. But Hermione was still oddly silent. All in all, she was the one that looked the worst.

Neville shrugged. "Doesn't matter. They don't want to spill too much pure blood, so they'll torture us a bit if we're mouthy but they won't actually kill us." _I suppose there's not much fun in conquering the Wizarding world if there's no one around to go and rule,_ Neville thought. _Much more useful to try and brainwash us into their ideology._

Hermione went even paler at that, and Harry looked shocked. Neville had never heard him say anything, of course, but he'd seen him enough times on the train ride back home to guess Hogwarts wasn't just a school for Harry, but a home as well. His real home, if the rumours about his Muggle relatives were to be believed. 

Then again, the kidnapping of students he told them about next wasn't comforting either. He felt a twinge of sadness when he mentioned Luna, trapped with Death Eaters for months.

"Neville, she's all right, we've seen her –" they hastened to say. 

_Seen her? "Saved her life" would be more accurate_ , he thought. "Yeah, I know, she managed to get a message to me." He lifted his D.A. Galleon. The words _We're fighting_ glinted in the lamp light. 

"These have been great," he told Hermione, beaming, and she definitely blushed. "The Carrows never rumbled how we were communicating, it drove them mad. We used to sneak out at night and put graffiti on the walls: _Dumbledore's Army, Still Recruiting_ , stuff like that." He smiled dreamily at the memory. "Snape hated it."

"You used to?" Harry seemed to be bracing himself for more bad news. 

And Neville hated that bad news was the only thing he could give them. The only comfort was that they they'd talked to Luna, so it was likely they already knew some of it. However, he told them about the Carrows' persecution and their torture of Michael, since that had happened after she'd been taken. 

He was somewhat proud he'd gotten to be such a nuisance to the Death Eaters, and his Gran agreed... Then again, it looked like there _was_ a bit of good news he could give them. 

"- and they went for Gran."

As he told them the story of Dawlish's one-way Portkey to St Mungo's (it earned a "cool" from Ron), they reached the end of the passage. It was a steep climb, and yet Neville noticed the three friends weren't nearly as tired as he was, and he'd been climbing that passage regularly for the last two weeks. It made him wonder just how much climbing and walking and _running_ they'd been doing lately.

"I don't know whether they were planning to kill me or send me to Azkaban, either way, I knew it was time to disappear," he finished.

"But, aren't –" Ron looked at him, confused, "aren't we heading straight back for Hogwarts?" Neville grinned, feeling probably like Fred and George when they were about to reveal their latest product to a room full of first-years.

"Course. You'll see. We're here."

He clambered the last flight of steps and opened the hidden door. Stepping through, he noticed everyone on the D.A. was already there, heads turning towards him.

Before the Harry and the others had a chance to get through, he exclaimed: "Look who it is! Didn't I tell you?" 

Maybe he _had_ become a little fond of dramatics this year, but he was so excited he didn't really care. This moment was what'd kept him going during the most hopeless times this year.

Right on cue, the yells of _"Harry!", "Ron!"_ and _"Hermione!"_ filled the room, as seemingly the entire D.A. rushed forwards to hug, shake hands and pat the backs (or, in Lavender's case, kiss - Hermione was not amused), their three lost heroes.

It was chaos; Neville stepped aside with difficulty to avoid being crushed by the crowd, a big grin on his face that made the gash on his cheek Amycus' gash hurt. 

"OK, OK, calm down!" he called to the room. Everybody slowly backed away, and returned to their usual places. Neville saw Harry taking in the room.

"Where are we?" he said.

"Room of Requirement, of course! Surpassed itself, hasn't it?" He noticed Hermione's eyes on the bookcases and the wireless, and Ron's eyes on Hermione.

He told them how he'd found it, while Harry was still examining its new form. He seemed to be looking for possible exits. 

"And the Carrows can't get in?" 

"No," said Seamus. "It's a proper hideout, as long as one of us stays in here, they can't get at us." He then proceeded to gush about Neville and the Room, looking for all the world like a proud big brother, and even added a very unnecessary "Neville's the man!"

"The man" felt himself turning scarlet.

"It's quite straightforward, really," he disagreed. "I'd been in here about a day and a half, and getting really hungry, and wishing I could get something to eat, and that's when the passage to the Hog's Head opened up," he pointed towards the portrait, where Ariana was not really looking at them. "I went through it and met Aberforth. He's been providing us with food, because for some reason, that's the one thing the room doesn't really do."

"Yeah, well, food's one of the five exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration," Ron said nonchalantly.

Half the room stared at him with disbelief. Since when did Ron know anything about magical theory? Hermione was looking at him fondly (were they together already? If not, it couldn't take long now) but Harry didn't seem to find Ron's newfound knowledgeability odd. His attention was focused instead on the students gathered there. 

The gawping _was_ a bit rude, though, so Neville was glad when Seamus and Lavender diverted everyone's attention. Some, however, didn't care for the story of their hiding place.

"Tell us what you've been up to, though," interrupted Ernie. "There've been so many rumors, we've been trying to keep up with you on Potterwatch. You didn't break into Gringotts?" 

"They did!" said Neville before any of them could answer; he couldn't help it. "And the dragon's true too!"

The whole room burst into applause, and Ron jokingly took a bow. 

"What were you after?" Seamus asked eagerly. They'd been discussing that ever since they first heard about it. That was the time Neville really felt a pang of longing for Luna's eccentric ideas. He really missed her, and Ginny, it was just not the same without them.

Then it happened, all in a heartbeat. The little colour he had suddenly drew from Harry's face. He turned abruptly towards the other two; their eyes met for an instant, and all goofiness left Ron's face. Before Neville could fathom what was going on, Harry's knees buckled under his weight. 

Neville made to move, but Ron was already there, holding him up.

"Are you all right, Harry? Want to sit down?" He didn't know what to say. Those closest to them had started to notice something'd happened. "I expect you're tired, aren't –" 

With what appeared to be a great effort, Harry opened his eyes.

"No," he cut him short. He was still pale as the dead and covered in sweat, controlling his breath like Gran did when she had a really bad headache, clutching at Ron to stay upright. But his eyes when he looked at his two friends (the rest of the room seemed to have disappeared for them) were urgent, yet focused and determined.

Ron and Hermione didn't look scared, or surprised even; only alert, as if they were expecting it. "We need to get going," Harry said, and they shared one of _those_ wordless understandings that were so common between them, and drove everyone else mad.

"What are we goin' to do, then, Harry?" asked Seamus eagerly. "What's the plan?" 

"Plan?" Letting go of Ron, Harry looked at him with a frown. "Well, there's something we – Ron, Hermione, and I – need to do, and then we'll get out of here."

A sudden silence fell upon the room. Neville didn't understand. 

"What d'you mean, ‘get out of here'?" They surely had come to overthrow Snape, drive the Death Eaters out of their school? Why else would they be here?

"We haven't come back to stay." Harry sounded tired. He was rubbing his scar now, and shivering slightly, and some part of Neville's brain (the part connected with the memories of his fifth year) told him there lay the key to the puzzle, but he was so perplexed he didn't pay attention to it. "There's something important we need to do –"

"What is it?" he interrupted.

"I-" Harry looked at him, uncomfortably. "I can't tell you." 

People started muttering. This was not how it was supposed to be.

"Why can't you tell us? It's something to do with fighting You-Know-Who, right?"

"Well, yeah –" 

"Then we'll help you," Neville said, because that was it, really. How could they not see it? That was the very purpose of them being here. Neville looked round at the rest of the D.A. and saw in every face that they were ready to fight. Some of them even stood up.

Ron and Hermione took a step closer to Harry, he eyeing them all with caution, her tense features fixed on Harry.

"You don't understand," said Harry, his voice weary. "We – we can't tell you. We've got to do it – alone."

"Why?" 

Harry huffed. 

"Because..." He took a big breath, hands clenched in fists; he still looked as if he were trying to hold a Shield Charm against all of Slytherin's sixth years. "Dumbledore left the three of us a job, and we weren't supposed to tell – I mean, he wanted us to do it, just the three of us."

So it was Dumbledore? Dumbledore didn't trust them?

"We're his army," Neville retorted. "Dumbledore's Army. We were all in it together, we've been keeping it going while you three have been off on your own –"

Ron took a step towards him this time, and suddenly looked a bit intimidating with his full head of height over Neville. 

"It hasn't exactly been a picnic, mate."

"I never said it had. But I don't see why you can't trust us." Hermione wore an expression she'd probably picked from McGonagall; whether it was meant for him, Harry or Ron, Neville couldn't tell. "Everyone in this room's been fighting and they've been driven in here because the Carrows were hunting them down. Everyone in here's proven they're loyal to Dumbledore." He looked at Harry straight in the eye. "Loyal to you."

These last words didn't make Harry blush or splutter uncomfortably as they would have done a year ago. Now Harry was looking more on the exasperated side.

"Look..." he started to argue, but he was distracted by the sudden opening of the passage door, and a most familiar dreamy voice.

"We got your message, Neville! Hello, you three, I thought you must be here!" 

Seamus almost knocked poor Terry over as he rushed forward and enveloped Dean in a tight hug. Neville grinned; this year had been hard for Seamus, knowing his best friend was out there somewhere, amidst Death Eaters and rogue werewolves and Snatchers. Their worst week had been when they heard on Potterwatch that he was missing. When they heard through Luna that Harry'd saved them both, Seamus swore that, if he ever saw them again, he'd follow him in anything he might cook up, no matter how barmy it might be.

Beside him, Luna was happily greeting everyone ("Oh, it's great to be back!"), looking exactly as she had when Neville first met her. It was as if not even months as a prisoner could break her spirit. Boy, he'd missed her. Harry, on the other hand, was looking at her as if... well, as if he'd just met her. 

"Luna, what are you doing here? How did you–?"

"I sent for her. I promised her and Ginny that if you turned up I'd let them know." Harry still looked nonplussed (and Neville knew it wasn't just for the mention of his "ex" girlfriend). He'd been reluctant to accept it, but he had to; so he, at last, explained: 

"We all thought that if you came back, it would mean revolution. That we were going to overthrow Snape and the Carrows." He held his gaze, daring him to deny it but at the same time fearing that he might indeed do it. 

"Of course that's what it means," chirped Luna happily from the arm of the nearest armchair. "Isn't it, Harry? We're going to fight them out of Hogwarts?"

"Listen..." Harry was starting to sound slightly panicked. "I'm sorry, but that's not what we came back for. There's something we've got to do, and then –"

"You're going to leave us in this mess?" came a shout from the back. Neville winced. Michael was always one to talk without thinking. 

"No!" Ron shouted back. "What we're doing will benefit everyone in the end, it's all about trying to get rid of You-Know-Who –"

"Then let us help!" Neville retorted "We want to be a part of it!"

But then the portrait made a noise and swung open, and it was Ginny stepping out of the hole. She gave Harry a big, bright smile – a smile Neville hadn't seen on her all year – and Harry was looking at her as if someone'd emptied a cauldron full of Amortentia on his head. 

And then in came Fred and George and Lee, and behind them Cho Chang, who gave Harry an entranced smile before apparently remembering she had a boyfriend; and Harry stood there with his mouth open and it looked so funny (he heard Parvati actually snicker) that Neville felt his anger dwindling. 

It was obvious Harry had his own reasons to come back. Harry, and Ron, and Hermione, they had a mission entrusted to them by Dumbledore. And the Order hadn't rushed to overthrow Snape, then why did they think Harry was going to do that? It was plain that the student revolt was their own fantasy.

"So what's the plan, Harry?" asked a merry George.

"There isn't one." Harry still looked as if he'd been hit on the head by a bludger.

"Just going to make it up as we go along, are we?" said Fred, and he rubbed his hands. "My favorite kind." 

Harry's plan obviously didn't include them; it never had (Neville still remembered their discussion two years ago), but he also had no idea he was going to find the whole D.A., even bigger than the previous one, ready to fight.

Harry turned towards him. "You've got to stop this! What did you call them all back for? This is insane –"

There was a hint of desperation in his voice, the same one he'd had when they told him they were going to the Ministry with him, the one that spoke of his fear of somebody getting hurt because of him.

Neville was observant, even if people didn't notice, and he knew Harry; not as well as Ron, Hermione or Ginny, sure, but Harry was readable for those who actually took the time to pay attention.

And he was there, and even if it didn't involve handing the Carrows their arses on a plate he was going to need their help, and they'd be there for it. 

In the middle of all that ruckus, Ron had been wearing a thoughtful expression. Then, all of a sudden, he turned towards Harry.

"Why can't they help?" 

Harry looked at his friend as if he'd just tried to kiss Sir Nick.

"What?" 

"They can help." He stepped closer to him and Hermione. Barely moving his lips, Ron said something in a voice so low not even Neville, who was almost next to them, could hear. Harry didn't look convinced. 

Then Hermione spoke for the first time since they'd entered the Room. Neville couldn't fully make out what she said, but the last part he did hear. 

"You don't have to do everything alone, Harry."

For a moment, Harry said nothing. He then closed eyes, and opened them again. 

"All right," he sighed more than said. Neville's breath caught in his throat. Could it be...?

Then Harry turned round, facing Dumbledore's... _his_ Army. "OK," he called, suddenly business-like, and everyone fell silent, all faces turned towards him. Neville could hear his own heart pounding in his ears. "There's something we need to find."

Neville smiled. At last, it was time to fight.


End file.
